


unprepared

by sylveonne



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cole reading awkward thoughts out loud, F/M, Minor Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, POV Varric Tethras, Prompt Fill, Realization, The Western Approach, is a hellhole and no one is particularly happy to be there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 11:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylveonne/pseuds/sylveonne
Summary: They venture to the Western Approach to assuage the worries of their Inquisitor. There's some banter. There's some blushing.Prompt fill for the DWC group on Tumblr.





	unprepared

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted at my tumblr of the same name!  
> first time writing these two but hoping to write more in the future... :3c  
> feel free to send me prompts!

The sun blistered painfully as it beat down upon their backs, further amplified by the reflective minerals amongst the sands, and the party was practically shriveled up beneath its onslaught. The Inquisitor had insisted on making another pass through the Still Ruins over a week ago. ( _“I could have_ sworn _I passed one of those ancient artifacts,” she had said as her arms closed around herself. She had bitten her lip then and squeezed her elbows, her previously perfect posture shrinking as her confidence waned. “I just...think we should go and confirm its location— and activate it, if it’s there, which it should be! There might not be many residents living in the area, but...coupled with the Abyssal Rift, any breaches in the Veil could have catastrophic consequences.” Cullen had sensed her discomfort and all but ordered his fellow advisors to approve the excursion. The man couldn’t refuse his lover— not when she looked like_ that.) Varric resisted his urge to sigh— it would only result in a mouthful of sand, anyway— and allowed his mind roam for the time being. There was only an hour left until the sky’s burning mistress would sink low enough to give their skin a desperately needed reprieve from at least one of the elements. The wind would start to snap at them and whip sand against their burns once the light had faded, but at that point they would make camp, be merry, and then retire to their two tents that would surely be tucked behind a dune or some sort of protrusion of stone to prevent them from being blown away. In the meantime…

“Damn sand chafing my asscrack, will the sun set already? I want to rest and forget about this hellhole for a few hours,” Cole suddenly spouted. Shen and Cassandra both swiveled to stare at them from where they had been examining an abandoned camp at the roadside. The Inquisitor’s brows were raised and her mouth downturned, but Cassandra…

 _Oh, if looks could kill._ He felt the shudder slip down his spine but resisted the urge to shrink away. Her blatant disapproval was nothing new, but she seemed especially irritable about any slip-ups he made since he had gifted her the next installation of Swords and Shields. Instead, Varric turned to Cole and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Some things are better left unsaid, kid. Especially the ones with a lot of vulgarities. Don’t say things like that.”

“But _you_ said them,” Cole protested, but Varric just shook his head and ushered him ahead.

“No, kid— I _thought_ them where normally people wouldn’t be able to hear. There’s a difference.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and made an attempt to huff in disdain, but instead ended up coughing on the sand that seemed to find its way into every nook and cranny that existed in living bodies. He suppressed his urge to laugh, but just barely. “Careful there, Seeker.”

She just grimaced and made to follow Shen who had finished up her inspections while he lectured Cole on etiquette. The path ahead had no shade in sight. Wonderful, that. Varric took a small sip from his canteen and trudged after them, Bianca an unusually heavy weight on his shoulders in the mind-numbing heat of the Western Approach.

* * *

The sun set at last and a hush settled over the desert’s inhabitants like a scratchy wool blanket: the quiet didn’t really suit them, but it was necessary for a proper rest. Their crew settled around a smokeless fire than their Herald had been so kind to cast. Varric made to reach for his canteen again, but paused mid-motion as Cassandra shook hers above her mouth. Her frustrated growl was all too familiar; Shen leaned over towards her friend in concern. “You’re out already?”

“Yes,” Cassandra gritted out. She screwed the cap back on before she let the canteen drop like it had personally offended her (which, he supposed, it sort of had). Shen shook her own, but all they heard was a faint ring of droplets striking metal. She sagged and rubbed her fingers across her vallaslin in that nervous tic that usually preceded a change to a more authoritative demeanor.

“I don’t actually need mine,” Cole volunteered, eager as always. 

“What about you, Varric?” Shen asked as her gaze turned to rest on him. Varric had already located his and gave it an experimental jiggle. His head tilted in moderate surprise as slosh of a mostly-full container made itself heard. He felt Shen’s protective disapproval from across the campfire and was swift in his attempt to diffuse the situation.

“Now, now— there’s no need to get riled up. I just wanted to make sure I was pacing myself. I’ll drink more since we’ve settled for the night,” he said as a conciliatory smile spread across his cheeks, easy as a breath but without any real joy behind it. Shen seemed satisfied and accepted the full canteen from Cole, but Cassandra continued to watch him. He had the distinct impression that she had seen the way his smile hadn’t met his eyes— _still_ wasn’t— and he responded with a raised brow as he lifted the flask to his lips. The sweet relief of liquid ran down his dry throat and he suppressed a groan of satisfaction; his eyes slid closed at the simple pleasure of slaking his incessant thirst. He disliked excursions such as these, but his support lay fully with the elf across the fire who now fussed over the warrior at her side. Said warrior was far more flushed than she had been a moment ago. _Huh._

Cassandra looked resolutely away from him and accepted the canteen that had been thrust into her hands. As she lifted it to drink, he watched from a casual pose that belied his rapt attention. Her eyes drifted back to him as she swallowed. Once. Twice. Three times. A bead of sweat that had nothing to do with the climate slid down his back as his eyes widened. Her gaze snapped away again as she passed the water back to Shen, then she lifted the side of her hand to brush at her lips as if she had let any drip in her haste.

Satisfied, Shen busied herself by giving reassurances to Cole that yes, tomorrow they would reach the Lost Spring camp and would be able to replenish their supplies. Cassandra excused herself to the tent she shared with the Herald as she would have the last watch before dawn broke, but Varric still pondered what that twist in his gut had meant when their eyes had met through the flames. He continued to think about it even as the others went to rest and he took the first watch. Still he thought about it as he performed his nightly maintenance on Bianca that he made sure to complete when they were in the field. He fingered a bolt while gazing up at the sky.

_Well, shit._


End file.
